


Waging Warfare

by TatyanaIvanshov



Category: Versailles (TV 2015)
Genre: "THE CHEVALIER WAS NOT A COWARD"- ALEX VLAHOS, Chev at war, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, M/M, Sex, Sexy war chev, Smut, Strategy & Tactics, War, War Monsieur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:20:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27505222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TatyanaIvanshov/pseuds/TatyanaIvanshov
Summary: Monsieur has to deal with his brother's incompetence even while away at war and the Chevalier is by his side to help.Things get heated and a table gets a beating. And then a chair gets abused.-No Tables or Chairs Were Harmed in the Making of This Fic--Okay, maybe only one of each-
Relationships: Chevalier de Lorraine/Philippe d'Orléans | Monsieur (Versailles 2015)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 37





	Waging Warfare

**Author's Note:**

> GET YO FOLDING FANS AND A COLD DRINK BECAUSE THIS ONE IS EXPLICIT.  
> E X P L I C I T .  
> But hot and from the wise words of Alexander Vlahos; "THE CHEVALIER WAS NOT A COWARD." He is a war hero, I don't care about canon.

“If they expose their left flank, do you think we would have a chance of attacking there?” Philippe leaned over the large meeting table, hands pressed flat and head hanging low as he observed the laid out maps and reports in front of him.

“Only if we have enough men to secure all sides. We wouldn’t want a surprise to sprout out of nowhere.” The Chevalier picked a grape off the bowl on the table he was resting his legs on and plopped down on his lap the papers of information he was given the task of reading through. 

“We might but we can’t use them,” Philippe muttered, his finger tracing a route over the map as his mind did the work. “Louis, for fucks sake.” He gritted his teeth and slammed his hands on the table.

“Why can’t you use them?” The Chevalier put his feet down, his heels clicking on the cold floor as he did so. He watched his lover prance back and forth. 

“He’s only sending them to scare William into retreating. But he doesn’t understand that once the Dutch get word of our numbers, they will match us with weapons or some other way. They will be prepared.” 

“Your brother cannot send them in secret?” 

“The whole point is to scare them. He’s going to make a spectacle of it, I’m sure.” Philippe seethed, unable to rest as he ran his fingers through tangled, ebony locks that cascaded down his shoulders and onto the black overcoat he wore. 

“Well…” The Chevalier furrowed his eyebrows, tossing the papers on the table and pushing himself to his feet, making his way to hover above the maps Philippe had been looking at. “Where would they be exposing their left flank?” He asked and he felt the Prince’s presence above his shoulder. Monsieur reached out and pointed to a spot on the map. “How many men do we have in total and how many has Louis sent?” Philippe handed him a letter with the numbers and the Chevalier’s mind danced, wheels turning as he glanced between the numbers and maps. “What if you use these men, but-” 

“We can’t do that. Louis doesn’t want them to fight.” Philippe dismissively answered. 

“Not fight, my darling. Your plan was to attack here, was it not?” Lorraine pointed and Philippe nodded. “The numbers at our disposal are enough for that. But you can never be too sure, so you would need a few lines over here, and over here. If you use the numbers Louis gave you just to safeguard those spots, they wouldn’t be fighting, but they would be making themselves useful.” 

Philippe approached, his eyes darting between the giddy Chevalier that looked at him with a devious smirk, and the maps stacked on top of each other. 

“These men… they’d be there just in case of a surprise. What if there really is a surprise? They’d have to fight.” Philippe’s voice held no emotion, his face a blank slate. 

“Well, are they prepared for such a fight?” 

“Yes, but that’s not the point-” 

“Then it is a risk worth taking.” 

“My brother will not approve. Risking lives like this.” Philippe shook his head, angered at the way the Chevalier jokingly rolled his eyes with a hint of a smile. 

“You’re not risking lives. You said they’re prepared to fight. If something does happen, you will have the men you put on the left still alive and well.” 

“A spy said they’re planning to attack the supply line. We will need men there too. We cannot overly thin out like this.” He turned his back to Lorraine, a move he often made to put an end to the conversation, too used to his men but the Chevalier was not one of them. 

“You’re making excuses for your brother. You know you can switch routes easily. We’re at an advantage here.” He grabbed him by the arm and spun him around to find troubled eyes flickering between his own. 

“This is not a good idea.” Philippe shook his head, wiggling himself free from the Chevalier’s grip and taking a seat at the head of the table, leaning against one arm of the armchair. Lorraine sighed.

“You have no justification except that you will be risking your brother’s anger.” 

“My brother, who is the King of France, need I remind you?” His eyebrows were knitted together, fists clenched as he turned towards the blonde.

“A brother who is not here, need I remind you?” The Chevalier strolled forth, towards Philippe. “As long as he has his glory, he would not punish you for it.” 

“That’s just it. I will win it. It will be my glory. He will not allow that. He may take it out on the men, on you, who knows? I cannot risk it.” 

Lorraine kneeled, his body nuzzled between Philippe’s spread legs as his fingertips brushed his lover’s pale skin that shimmered despite the cool light that flickered through the windows of the meeting room.

“Then I believe your only option is to win before he has time to interfere, darling.” The Chevalier looked upon the beauty before him, transfixed as he always was by his Philippe. There was no way he would let Philippe stand down while Louis gave his orders and bad ideas. The Prince could lead them to victory if only the King would permit him the freedom to do as he thought best but knowing Louis, he wouldn’t stand down. He had to get Philippe to fight for it. 

Just as Philippe was about to respond, the door swung open, in marching a young boy, not over twenty with a lowered head. 

“Your Royal Highness,” He bowed. “Your Highness.” He repeated, this time towards the Chevalier who balanced his hands on Philippe’s thighs, turned to look at the intruder. “The Marquis d'Effiat for you.” Philippe sighed in frustration. 

“Let him in.” He commanded and the man hurriedly marched inside without missing a beat, stiffening when he saw their intimate position. “Speak.” 

“Uhm- Uh… Yes, forgive me. Highness, our spies report to us their strategy and it seems their numbers are much lower than we thought. William was having more men brought over but most fell ill along the way and the few remaining were met with thieves and are now unarmed.” As Antoine spoke, the Chevalier pushed himself to his feet and leaned against the backrest of the chair Philippe sat on, listening intently. “They are planning a surprise attack in two days.” 

“Is their plan of attacking our supply route still in order?” Lorraine asked what was running through Monsieur’s head. 

“It does not say, monsieur, I believe it still is.” He approached the table, standing parallel to the pair, and set down a letter that Philippe reached out to grab. “The cipher, Monsieur.” He handed it to him as the letter had been written in code, though the Marquis had already marked it with some translations. 

Rushing in came the Duc de Luxembourg and the Duc d’Humières but Philippe did not look up from the letter, not until he turned to the Chevalier with a glint in his eyes that the blonde knew all too well.

“We can win this.” Lorraine hissed lowly for only his lover’s ears, fighting a smile that crept upon his features. 

“Send for reinforcements. 38 battalions of infantry and 80 cavalry squadrons from Saint-Omer. I want them here by tomorrow.”

“They will be outnumbered. We can corner them.” The Chevalier went around the chair to the map of the nearby area hovering above it as a finger traced. Philippe watched what went on in his lover’s mind, all too clear to him. 

“Humières, you will attack the right but first, Luxembourg, you and your men take the left as you have the majority. I will attack the center. They will be cornered.” Philippe commanded.

“William will have no option but to order a general retreat.” Lorraine’s eyes found Philippe’s. 

“Highness, you do not have the numbers for such an attack!” Luxembourg interfered, leaning over the table in outrage. 

“The men my brother sent. They will not fight until they absolutely must, keep them as far back as possible but we will be making use of every able-bodied man we’ve got.” 

“Your Highness, his Majesty’s order’s were cle-” 

“If it backfires, which is highly unlikely, I will answer. But one way or another, we are using the troops and the war will be over before the week’s end.” Philippe stood to his feet and turned his back to gaze out of the large windows behind him, the Chevalier’s eyes following.

“And the supply route?” Effiat asked.

“Hardly an issue. The river splits, my friend. The route they plan to attack is not the most advantageous for us. However, the other over… here,” Lorraine pointed at the map. “Is perfect. It’ll help reinforcements get here on time and throw them off. Their attack will go to waste and we can hit them at their weakest.” He took a seat where Philippe had been, laid back to find their reactions were rather blank, looking amongst each other. 

“And his Majesty-” 

“Is not here. You answer to his Highness.” The Chevalier played with the rings that blinged his fingers.

“Prepare the lines.” Philippe turned back towards them and came forth to halt by Lorraine’s side. “Make sure our artillery is ready for any surprised attack that may befall us.” 

“What are we to tell his Majesty?” Luxembourg asked. 

“Do not worry. I will take it upon myself to write to him. He will understand and will be in full support.” Monsieur’s lips tugged into a smile that swiftly disappeared. “If that is all…” 

The men bowed, some more than others and with a swift movement of the Prince’s hand, they were dismissed and turned to walk out. Philippe followed after them up until the door where he grabbed onto the arm of the young boy that stood by and handed him a bright, shiny gold coin. 

“If anyone walks in, I’ll have your head.” He whispered into his ear and allowed him to scramble out of the room, shutting the door behind him. 

Philippe turned towards the table, on the other side of which the Chevalier sat, shoulders squared and locks golden, cascading down his body in the most regal way. Whispers of sun shone behind him, and he was divine, the sight making Monsieur shiver as he pranced forward and around the table to his lover. 

The Chevalier was about to say something when Philippe reached down to take his lips, a fierce kiss that made whatever words that were about to leave his mouth, be swallowed away by the Prince who hopped onto his lap while their tongues danced together. Lorraine cupped his lover’s face, kissing him with ferocity that made the Prince shiver. 

“What has gotten into you?” He chuckled when his lover pulled away, only to tug down his cravat and find the supple skin of his neck with masterful lips that nipped and pleased. Lorraine did not protest, allowing Philippe to do as he wished. 

“I love the way your mind works.” Philippe came up with a smile and pressed their lips together, his arms lacing around his neck to rest on Lorraine’s shoulders as he chuckled. 

“I love it when you speak like that.” The Chevalier’s voice was growing coarser, tainted by desire that had begun to swell inside him. 

“Mmm…” Philippe hummed against his mouth. “What way is that?” Their lips continued to ravish each other, not giving way for words to come out correctly. 

“Like the King of the world,” The Chevalier mumbled as his fingers tightened in his hair and his lips found his lover’s ear, a particularly weak spot in Philippe that always made him melt when sucked or nipped. “Mon soldat, mon Roi…” The Prince became putty in his hands, the words sending shivers down his spine and his hot breath against his ear shooting straight to his groin. He gasped, fingers tightening around the Chevalier’s waistcoat. “Mon cher.” He placed a kiss behind his ear and Philippe’s eyes rolled back, squirming in his lap enough to rub against Lorraine. “You keep moving like that, mignonette, and you won’t be able to sit properly on a horse for days.” 

With a gasp, the Prince froze, tightening his thighs together, still unknowingly pressing over where the Chevalier needed it mosts and it drove him mad. But he didn’t have to say a thing because Philippe, with the graceful movements of a cat and the vicious eyes of one too, crawled off his lap and got on his knees between his legs. It wasn’t often that the Prince submitted himself without talking back or playing the Chevalier’s game but he really needed it. It came with the power, hand in hand and now was the time he had most of it. 

Without a word, he licked and bit his lips as his fingers began to quickly unbutton Lorraine’s breeches as the latter chuckled and reached a hand to run through his hair, to soothe and pet just like Philippe liked it. He was a spoiled little Princess at times, and the Chevalier loved it.

At the last button, he reached up and his lover met him in the middle with a kiss, gasping in his mouth when Philippe’s hands found their way inside and grabbed onto his swelling cock that was already aching with need. His dainty fingers wrapped around him, and he began to lazily pump, enjoying the groans of frustration from the Chevalier who tried to remain patient. But when he felt a thumb trace over the tip, his fingers fisted in Philippe’s hair, making him wince as his head was dragged down and his mouth pried open. Yet, he resisted, instead snaking out a tongue and running laps over the slits, even placing a kiss as he innocently gazed up at Lorraine through thick, black eyelashes.

“Do it, already!” The Chevalier growled and pulled Philippe’s head down and the Prince did not fight it this time. He braced himself and allowed his lover to slide himself all the way in until he hit the back of his throat and pushed even further. Lorraine’s head fell back enjoying every perfect moment of warmth and wetness that wrapped around him, and when Philippe hollowed his cheeks, he couldn’t help but watch. 

“Mmm…” Philippe groaned, the vibrations that ran through his body had Lorraine’s fingers tighten in Philippe’s hair, pulling him down further until Philippe felt his throat screeching to be relieved of the fullness. Tears stung in his eyes and yet he managed to take it all in without a complaint and the Chevalier rewarded him by pulling out almost completely and giving him a moment to breathe. A short-lived moment, because soon, he slammed back inside, causing Philippe to whimper and almost choke as his lips coated with spit, and his eyes grew dim with lust. 

“Oh, you like that, do you not?” Lorraine huffed out a laugh with a side smirk, his finger going to trace Philippe’s stretched out lips that were still wrapped around him before dragging his head back and thrusting himself back into his eager mouth, in shallow thrusts that felt just as good. 

Philippe tried to nod and moan in approval but he was hindered and held down so he couldn’t move as the Chevalier’s hips began to slam forward, fucking his mouth until Philippe’s eyes had to squeeze as tears threatened to spill, the taste of his lover his throat consuming him completely. 

“God, yes! Fuck, you’re so good.” Lorraine groaned, watching his cock repeatedly disappear into the Prince’s masterful mouth, a sight so perfect, he felt tumbling towards the edge. “Stop, stop!” His fingers gripped in his locks and pulled his head up, giving himself a moment to catch his breath as the pleasure subsided, his body tingling with sensitivity. 

Philippe continued to gaze innocently at him, his lips bright red with spit, and his hair disheveled from the Chevalier’s ruthless hands. His cheeks tinted and gave him the look of sin, so tempting and delicious but ready to destroy whoever played along. 

“Did I do something wrong?” He batted his eyelashes, knowing the answer very well, causing the Chevalier to chuckle breathlessly and release the grip on his hair. He came forth and in a starved fashion, took his lips, nipping and tasting his lover in a kiss, simultaneously tasting himself on his tongue. He cupped his face and placed a quick peck on his lips but the tenderness subsided quickly. 

“Get on the table.” He commanded before patting his cheek and reclining back on the chair. Philippe wasted no time pushing himself to his feet and rolling up the maps and papers to toss on the floor before crawling up, puckering his ass out and looking over his shoulder to find the Chevalier watching closely, out of his fist peaking the red tip of his cock. “Strip.” Another brash command that Philippe obeyed without a second thought. He pulled off his baldric that ran across his chest and tossed it on the floor before repeating with his waistcoat. “Breeches,” Lorraine said when he noticed Philippe taking to undo his shirt. 

He halted for a second, unsure of how it could work if he didn’t remove his boots first but the Chevalier only waited, carefully studying how he would take his orders. Confused but aware of Lorraine’s game, Philippe began by pulling off the boots but he kept them close, though wasted no time removing his breeches before slipping the riding boots back on and puffing his chest out in pride when his lover nodded with a smug smile.

Philippe fidgeted, waiting for his next order, wearing only a white linen shirt that reached mid-thigh and black boots that almost met it in the middle, showing off a pale strip of skin on his legs. 

“Turn around.” He said and had to hold back a giggle as Philippe acted hesitant and shy, as if he’d never exposed himself thus to his lover a million times in the past.

“Like this?” His voice was small and breathless when he only turned and sat on his knees, knowing very well what the Chevalier actually wanted when he requested for him to turn. 

“Bend forward,” Lorraine said and Philippe gracefully came forward on his hands and knees, showcasing his bare backside just as the blonde had asked. The Chevalier bit his lip as his mouth watered, unable to hold back the few pumps his body demanded. “Spread open.” And Philippe did, allowing his cheek to press on the table as he did as he was told. “More.” His fingers were turning white at how hard he gripped to spread himself just as Lorraine wanted. The Chevalier pushed to his feet and walked closer, feeling Philippe’s breath hitch in anticipation but he was given nothing. The Chevalier’s hot breaths hovered right above the needy ring of muscles and he attempted to push himself back towards it but he only got a smack that quickly tinted his pale ass red. 

“Please.” He whimpered and his prayers were answered when the Chevalier’s tongue traced a line through where Philippe needed it most, leaving a trail of spit over before repeating the action and drawing moans of approval from the Prince that kept himself spread open. He whimpered when the touch was retracted and there were only hot breaths hitting his skin in pants. 

“Touch yourself.” The Chevalier commanded and watched as Philippe reached over a finger to trace over the wet tightness that grew pink under his own touch. “Just one.” He said and the Prince reached his middle finger, pressing it into himself as slow as carefully as he could, taking his time to stretch himself past the initial resistance of his body. What dripped from the Chevalier’s mouth came as a welcome, wetting around his finger as he slid it as deep as the position would allow. “Good boy.” The Chevalier smirked as he watched Philippe pull out the finger and push it back in slowly, giving himself time to adjust. He held back moans but when Lorraine instructed for him to curl his finger inside, all hope was lost and he yelped, hitting the sweetest spot. The blonde laughed. “Like that.” 

“Can, can I- I add a second?” Philippe’s small, muffled voice was shaky. 

“Go ahead, mignonette.” He waited for the Prince, and of course, it was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen, the way his body tightened around his fingers when the Chevalier’s breath hit his skin. “Don’t move.” Lorraine instructed, nuzzling a quick kiss between Philippe’s fingers and his hole before leaving him in the position to hop towards his overcoat that he had earlier draped on a chair by the window. 

He turned to make sure the Prince hadn’t moved and sure enough, he hadn’t, still pumping his fingers in and out of himself as strings of moans fell from his lips. He was hot and beautiful and it drove the Chevalier mad watching him pleasure himself like that in nothing but riding boots and the sheer shirt that was riding up his body. He reached in his coat pocket and pulled out the vial of scented oil before making his way back to the Prince who was driving himself mad with pumps. 

“Slow down.” The Chevalier chuckled, undoing the stopper and letting the vanilla scent of it fill the room. Philippe recognized it and slowed his pace, making way for Lorraine who let the oil trickle around Philippe’s fingers who began to work it into himself. “Just like that.” 

The blonde watched his lover please himself before reaching down to place a kiss on the pale left cheek, tracing his lips lower to continue his trail with love bites mixed in. Philippe moaned, filling himself further with all his might as Lorraine’s kisses grew more passionate. 

“Put in a third.” He instructed and Philippe did as he was told, bracing himself for the slight sting. “Relax.” The Chevalier pressed soft pecks all over and the Prince couldn’t complain. He knew that until the Chevalier saw fit, he would not touch him any other way but as torturous as it was, he adored it. 

When the blonde wrapped his fingers around the hand that was still holding him spread open wide and brought it under and between Philippe’s legs to his weeping cock, it was a blessing and the Prince welcomed it, groaning as he pumped himself. 

“Does that feel good?” The Chevalier asked with a smirk and huffed out a laugh as Philippe mewled in approval. “I see.” He came around to the other side of the table where his lover’s face was pressed against the cold wood of the table and he took his time with a gentle touch to brush away the dark locks of hair that had fallen over his face. He looked beautiful like this, debauched and wild, in the pursuit of pleasure and nothing else. The Chevalier pressed kisses over his cheek before trailing them up to his ear, making him squirm and moan which only got worse when his lover reached a hand towards his nipple to play and dance over it until Philippe began to beg. 

“Please!” He squeezed his eyes shut as tears threatened to spill. 

“Please what?” Lorraine gripped his hair, the sting of his head going straight to the ache between his legs. It was delightful and the pressure was growing too intense. 

“Fuck me.” Philippe’s words were rarely this filthy and when they were, he was truly desperate. The Chevalier smiled and released his grip, retracting all touch altogether. 

“Stop.” He commanded and Philippe did as he was told, his thighs too weak to hold him up for much longer. He lowered his hips onto the table, sprawled out, and trying to catch his breath. His knees were burning and the muscles of his hands were growing tired from the vicious pumping. 

Lorraine went back to the other end, removing his waistcoat and undoing the laces of his shirt, giving Philippe a moment to breathe again, knowing that what would follow would not be easy on either of them. With great care, he repositioned Philippe so that his legs were planted on the floor and he was bending over the edge of the table rather than on it, taking a moment to admire the stretched out hole and bright red marks from where his fingers had dug. 

“You are perfect.” The Chevalier didn’t hold back and lowered his mouth to immediately suck in the harshest manner that caught the Prince off guard. His head raised from the table and the Chevalier grabbed onto his hair to keep it pulled back to where Philippe had to hold himself up on his elbows so that he could support the vicious arch of his body. His mouth fell open with uncontrollable moans when Lorraine’s experienced tongue pressed inside him. 

“Oh, God! Oh- Ah!” Philippe’s panting was cut short by the sudden loss of contact and he braced himself on the table. The Chevalier pulled his hair back and pressed his swollen bulge against his lover’s ass, big and hot as he came above him to reach his neck from behind. 

“You feel that?” The Chevalier asked as he pressed kisses where the shirt had fallen off his arm to reveal a bare shoulder. 

“Mhm…” Philippe nodded as Lorraine pressed harder, the only thing between them a thin layer of fabric. “Is that for me?” He bit back such comments most of the time but he knew it drove the Chevalier wild so he fed into it. 

“If you can take it.” His free hand grazed down his lover’s back where perfect curves lead him to the Prince’s hips, holding him in place. “Can you do that?” Philippe hummed in approval as the Chevalier bit down on his skin, driving his body mad with lust. He brought himself back with passion-filled kisses that trailed down Philippe’s back before raising himself and grabbing the oil. 

The Prince hissed when he felt it drip down between his slits and when the Chevalier poured it over his own cock, he felt its coolness and smiled at Philippe’s reaction. He took his time coating himself in the oil, using it as an excuse to pleasure himself for a moment before lining himself up with the Prince’s entrance and pressing against him. 

His body stiffened with anticipation but Lorraine took his time grazing his tip over multiple times, enjoying the way Monsieur whimpered and squirmed in need of more.

“Take me!” He commanded and the words had barely left his mouth when the Chevalier thrust himself in harder than Philippe anticipated, dragging out of his throat a scream as his eyes rolled at the back of his head. Lorraine grabbed onto his hair and pulled his head back to, once again, position him on his elbows while his cock remained buried deep, giving the Prince time to stretch and adjust to the size. “Oh, God, yes, please!” 

“Yeah?” He whispered as he somehow pushed even deeper, earning a mere scream from Philippe who nodded erratically. He was so full that his head spun, starting to feel dizzy as heat overtook his entire body.

“You feel so good.” He whimpered, breathing out as the Chevalier retreated slowly so that only the head remained buried.

“Mmh…” Lorraine hummed, tracing his thumb over the hole that cuffed around his throbbing cock. “How good? Tell me what it feels like.” His other hand wrapped around Monsieur’s waist to pull him higher before wrapping his fingers around his dick between them, applying very little pressure as he pushed himself back in.

“Good. So g-good.” He choked out, his mind barely registering the question. 

“You have to be more specific than that.” The Chevalier beamed at the way Philippe was mush under his touch, the way he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out but a whimper as his lover mercilessly dragged over the deepest parts of him. “What’s that?” He viciously slammed in, earning another moan. 

“So full.” His nails dug into the wood, his scalp burning at the Chevalier’s ruthless hand. “Hot.” 

“Uhm…” The blonde encouraged as the movement of his hips slowed, slipping in and out with ease. 

“Big.” Philippe gasped, his breathing growing rapid. “So good.” 

“And what do you want?” The Chevalier reached down to kiss his shoulder as he continued the torturous pace. 

“Harder.” Philippe didn’t miss a beat and had the Chevalier chuckling in amusement. It was not exactly what Philippe requested but Lorraine pulled out and helped his lover to his feet, having to hold him so his legs would not give out, and sat down at the chair, leading Philippe down on his lap. When the Prince tried to turn and sit across, he stopped him and instead held the little body facing forward. His hands cuffed under his knees as Philippe fought the little tickle it gave, instead leaning back on one side of the Chevalier’s chest and wrapped an arm around his neck to steady himself. “There we go.” He smiled as their lips found each other in a heated kiss, Philippe thrown off by the ease with which Lorraine lifted him before lowering him onto his cock.

“Oh, God! Careful!” Philippe gasped, feeling himself stretch out perfectly around his lover who groaned and viciously took Philippe’s lips to kiss and nip, to pour every bit of his love into as his hips bucked up. “Fuck!” The Prince moaned into the kiss, tears springing to his eyes as he was nowhere near fully in, yet already hit the spot Philippe needed most.

“You like it like this?” The Chevalier’s kisses trailed to his neck, ruthlessly sucking. 

“Yes, please! Harder.” Philippe knew he wouldn’t last long stretched out this way, so easy for the Chevalier to hit his sweet spot. It was too much and he was only proven right when the blonde thrust up, repeatedly until they lost count of how many times and he melted in Lorraine’s strong arms that held him in place as he fucked into him mercilessly. 

The Chevalier kissed him hard in an attempt to silence the sounds that poured out of him but it was no use. Philippe threw his head back and shut his eyes, the sensation running through his body in the most delightful way, hitting spots he didn’t even know existed. He was lost in the pleasure of it, swimming in the waves that slammed through his body non-stop, and he ached, he burned, and he needed more. 

His body was on fire, sweat coating his skin as locks of hair stuck to his forehead, body writhing with every violent thrust. Their bodies were both sensitive, ready to burst by the amount of teasing, and as the Chevalier picked up speed, they were both driven so far until Philippe lost all voice and threw his head back, jaw dropped with nails digging into his lover’s shoulders. 

“More. More!” He begged and the Chevalier obliged, burying himself repeatedly so deep neither knew how to handle the pleasure. The sounds of their slapping skins filled the room, accompanied by their grunts and whimpers, Philippe’s pleads of release only growing louder with each slam. 

“Show me how good I feel inside you.” The Chevalier whispered in his ear before his teeth dug into the lobe of his ear, the harsh sucking driving Philippe mad. Lorraine wanted nothing more than to reach over and grab between Philippe’s spread legs, to drive him further and further onto the edge but his hands were busy holding him up and by the way that the Prince had already started to gush in droplets that rolled down from the head, it seemed he didn’t need it. 

His body spasmed and he screamed, an orgasm like no other ripping through him and the sight was incredible, enough for the Chevalier to be driven further towards his own. Philippe cried out, unable to contain himself and to both their surprises, he didn’t stop, his body overtaken by a wave, a powerful chokehold that would not leave him. It was glorious and he tightened around his lover enough to speed up the heat that pooled at the bottom of the Chevalier’s stomach.

He worked his lover’s body to completion and even further, riding him through until he fell limp against his chest, his insides screaming for a break. 

“Just a little longer.” The Chevalier noticed his uncomfortable groans and drove faster, finding his own release while Philippe held onto him and took it, crying out as he was filled with hot, white spurts. The Chevalier’s arms gave out and he sunk into the Prince until Philippe was fully sitting on his cock, his body boneless against him and his eyes shut. 

The room went silent, nothing but their heavy pants filling the air, a chill making the pair shiver as it brushed against their sweaty bodies that rested against each other. Philippe’s head lay back against the Chevalier’s shoulder, his chest heaving and skin tingling with the aftermath of their vicious coupling and it was bliss. He didn’t remember it ever feeling that good- possibly something in the position that spread him too incredibly, allowing his lover to fill him even better than he already did. 

“H-how…” The Chevalier panted. 

“I don’t know.” Philippe’s breaths were sharp and his heart was still racing, but in his lover’s arms, he was safe. From behind, he felt his lips press against his temple and he couldn’t help but smile, content under the tender touches he melted under. 

He felt something move against his hand but it was only the Chevalier running his fingers through his as he brought their dancing hands to his mouth from behind to place kisses against his knuckles.

“Did I hurt you?” Lorraine seemed to not be able to keep his lips away from the Prince’s skin because soon they were back on his shoulder, tenderly pecking and brushing over every curve of his lovers’.

“No.” Philippe smiled, tucking his head against his, earning a kiss on the cheek. “Though, you were right. How will I lead an army when I cannot sit on a horse?” He joked, earning a chuckle from the Chevalier who squeezed him closer almost instinctively. He did not say it but Philippe knew where his mind went, his fears, and where they lie. So, he turned his head to face him and take his lips in a long kiss that relaxed both of them. “I will be alright.” The Prince whispered against his ear. 

“I know.” He nodded, convincing no one. “Let’s get you cleaned up before this dries,” Lorraine said. 

“Handkerchief… my overcoat.” Their eyes both darted to the chair across the room. Too far. “Your handkerchief?” But the Chevalier’s overcoat was in the same place. He shook his head. 

“Can you stand?” The Chevalier’s question was met with Philippe tightening his grip around him and a nod, despite not wanting to let go. They reluctantly shuffled to their feet, Lorraine holding onto Monsieur so his legs did not randomly give out, his entire body sensitive and trembling at this point from the intensity of their time together. “Here, careful.” The Chevalier smiled as he sat Philippe down to where he had been, letting him adjust when he slightly hissed. He reached down to place a kiss on his lips that still tasted of sex before hopping over to their coats and doing back up his breeches. 

He brought them over and placed them on the table, pulling out the handkerchief and going to where his lover sat with a smile, eyes shut as he enjoyed the moment. The Chevalier let him keep at it, even placing kisses upon spots he knew were ticklish and sure enough, he squirmed.

“We’re never having sex in any other position, ever again.” He breathlessly said, earning a laugh from the Chevalier who cleaned him up with great care. 

“We shall see how keen you are on finding a chair when you wake up charged in the middle of the night.” He folded the cloth and chucked it on the table. “Well, that’s ruined.” 

“We can still sit down in bed,” Philippe argued, running his hands through his hair and bringing them to cascade down one shoulder for the heat trapped under them to escape. He looked beautiful like that, so graceful and feminine, not that Monsieur wasn’t always graceful and feminine, but the Chevalier admired it when his lover was somehow even more elegant after they took all frustration out on each other thus. 

“The other night you had me remove your rings because you didn’t want to move.” 

“I was tired!” He watched with an amused glint as the Chevalier, giggling, rose to his feet and reached over to grab the maps and paper that had been tossed on the floor.

“Do you think they heard?” Lorraine casually asked, aware that they were not the quietest pair in the throes of passion.

“Would not put it past them. Unless the canons have impaired their hearing.” Philippe reached down to grab his breeches.

“Well then, they’ll know who the Prince of France belongs to.” The Chevalier took his lips for a soft peck as Philippe giggled, reaching for his face. 

“Now, enough distracting me. There’s a lot of work to do and they cannot find us unprepared.” Philippe attempted to put on his stern mask of no emotion, to return to his soldier demeanor but it was no use. A kiss from the Chevalier and it melted away, revealing a breathtaking smile that Lorraine had to see one last time before sending him off to the pile of work again.

“Whatever pleases you.” He watched his lover slip back on his riding boots after his breeches when there was a knock on the door. “Yes?” 

The valet boy entered and before he could say another word, Luxembourg ran inside, pushing past him, only to be met with the sight of the Chevalier buttoning back up the Prince’s breeches. 

“Oh, for heaven's sake.” He darted around, causing the Chevalier to roll his eyes and continue with his task. 

“What is it?” Philippe’s voice had completely shifted to one of pure power, raspy still but stern and unflinching. 

“A rider has arrived from Versailles and is here to see you. He bears a letter with the King’s seal.” He said. Lorraine had just finished the last button and they shared a look, Philippe’s lips tilting to a smile as he reached for a quick kiss before the Chevalier moved away and grabbed his waistcoat. 

“I’ll be right there.” Philippe leaned over the table and the Chevalier’s mind raced at the miniature gesture. When Luxembourg gave them a look and then exited, the Prince turned to his lover and noticed where his mind had gone. “I will never be near this table again without you giving me that look.” They chuckled as Lorraine ran his fingers through the Prince’s hair, preparing him to look his best.

“Quite right.” He pecked Philippe’s forehead. “Come now, we must deal with your brother.” Lorraine handed him his overcoat and then slipped on his own before hopping over to the door and holding it wide open for the Prince. “After you, your Royal Highness.” 

He watched as Philippe stifled a grin at the Chevalier’s false formalities, knowing he loved it when Lorraine addressed him so, but passing through the door anyways and brushing the Chevalier’s hand as he went, ebony curls falling down his shoulders in luscious waves that Lorraine admired. 

He was often hit with surges of pride knowing his man was all his, random moments he would just look upon him and be baffled at how lucky he was to love and be loved in return by one so resplendent. And now, he got to be by his side as he fulfilled his dream and all he could ask for. 

He was proud of him. He always was.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope your wrists are tired out (because of the folding fans of course, get your minds out of the gutter) and your cold drinks are all over your faces.


End file.
